Fallout Fortress
by Paintpaws
Summary: The post apocalyptic world of Team Fortress is a dangerous one. Fried robots roam free, raider gangs fight over fancy hats with their overpowered weapons and australium induced mutants hunt the few sane humans left behind. Yet two undying evils are still fighting their endless war. They must be stopped, as whoever wins will only make life worse for the last of humanity.
1. Prologue

_Author's Note: So I've deleted the first chapter and am going to rewrite the whole thing really, I'm leaving this here so bare with me, the rewrite make take some time._

* * *

 _Life was good. Until a real war woke us all up._

Sometimes it would have been nice to have a simulation or tutorial of life. Just so that you know what to expect, and can plan ahead. You would be ready for what real life throws at you.

A surreal world they created. It felt like you weren't even in your own body, merely acting in a first person movie. Death held no weight, you'd come inches away from his door only to be tugged away all of a sudden. Awoken on your feet, as fresh as the day began. Yet everyone believed it.

It was all, of course, a simulation. However, life outside the battlefield was real, there tumours bread and magical roommates were very much a threat. Their bodies, personalities, families and weapons were also quite real (and in some cases: handmade). But in reality, not one gun was ever fired.

How long this had been going on for was a secret. The fighting world felt so real, it's not human to second guess your own senses. But, a real respawn device was a closely guarded work in progress.

But alas, the invention was never finished. A certain Grey Mann interrupted things.

The mercenaries were awoken and thrown back into real life. Forced and expected to lead and save the world.

It seemed impossible to save anyone from robotic steel and nuclear fire. Especially when some of your only experiences came from a death defying war game.

But really, war, war never changes.


	2. Fortress Of Steel

Chapter 1: Fortress of Steel

" _Intruder alert! A Red Spy is in the base!"_

Aimless chatter floated out from the canteen of Vault 9. Half the population had already finished lunch and had gone back to work. The other half were either children, elderly or slackers, all competing to be the loudest. Yet the sound was nothing but a dull buzz to anyone not paying attention.

One slacker, a young woman, sat alone. She gazed ahead at a grey wall caked in posters. Slapped atop one another and older than she, they all bore the same message: " _If you see any suspicious behaviour, report it immediately to your Overseer."_

The one poster atop all others was likely the newest. Frazzled at the edges, it's faded image was of a line of vault suit clad people, expect the one figure in the middle. There was a man in a striped suit, wearing in what appeared to be a paper plate over his face. His finger was over where his lips should have been, his other hand was behind his back. The characters either side of him where none the wiser to their colleague's poor fashion choice.

Due to the age of the poster, and the fact that the background was a pale grey, the slacker had only just noticed that the suited man held something behind his back. Something pointed and equally grey as the walls behind him. She had been squinting at it for an age, until another slacker interrupted her.

"Hey hey, Payton!" Said the other slacker, a young man. He bounced into her field of view, her train of thought destroyed in the process.

Payton blinked back into the real world, "Yeah?"

The slacker slid down into the bench opposite her, he slapped a stack of comics on the table between them. Payton frowned in confusion, then sighed.

"Let me guess."

The slacker raised his hands placatingly. "Please, " He almost squeaked.

Payton grimaced, "Seriously? No way."

"C'mon man please. Look, I'll give you all these." The slacker said with the tone of a used car salesman as he spread the comic books across the table like a deck of cards.

Payton bit her lip as she read each comic title in turn. _Saxton Hale's Thrilling Tales: issue 55; Sentry Maintenance and You: Changing the Oil and Bonk! Boy: issue 14_ ...All in all, a tempting offer.

"I don't know." She muttered, "Donny, I don't like doing this, this is basically my dad."

"Yeah yeah, I know, just listen." Donny leant back, so far that he almost fell off the bench. Payton fought back a snicker as he flailed his arms to regain control. "I can give you some… uh.. valuable advice."

Payton raised an eyebrow, " _Valuable Advice._ " She said doubtfully.

"You heard me, the stuff's priceless, am I right?" He stood and hopped over the bench, "But uh.. not here." He threw out a hand, "So, we got a deal?"

The first slacker sighed, she cast a glance back down to the comics and said, "As long as I still get these."

"Sure sure, those now, advise later." He wiggled his fingers, Payton rolled her eyes and took his hand, giving a firm shake.

"What is it then?" She dared ask.

"Oh man I don't know, maybe some Fumes? Oh! Oh! Or maybe a Krit.." Donny pulled his hand back and ran it through his dark blond hair. "Uh, you know what just get whatever, uh surprise me!" He grinned, "I gotta go, meet me at mine, alright?"

Before Payton could reply, Donny had already raced away. The mess hall was almost empty at this point, the adults had ushered away their children and the elderly had left for a more comfortable part of the vault. Other slackers had filed away to their rooms or the depths of storeage. She scooped up her newly acquired comics and headed towards the vault's clinic.

More posters dotted the grey halls, their messages just the same as the ones in the canteen. But the designs differed a little, with a few extra words printed at the bottom. One poster that caught Payton's eye was of a smoking cigarette stub in an ashtray. The phrase at the bottom read: " _Can you smell tobacco? Remember, there are no smokers in Vault 9_."

Payton paused for only a second as she scanned the poster before carrying on. Posters were just a part of the vault, when she was a child they were a great source of curiosity and mystery. But as she reached adult years they felt more of a nuisance. However, it had just occurred to her that she had no idea what tobacco smelt like.

Rounding a corner and jogging up the stairs, Payton reached the clinical section of the vault. Somehow the grey walls seemed cleaner, the posters more thinned out and separate. She passed the theatre and the ward; sparing a glance through a window to see only one bed in use. Then she reached the pharmacy, opposite the examination rooms and next door to the office of the chief physician.

With a final glance behind her, Payton flicked a switch on the panel built into the wall. The steel door slid open with a hiss.

The dispensary of the medical wing was hardly high tech, with stainless white walls lined with cupboards, shelves and the odd mini fridge here and there. The room was also a few degrees cooler than the rest of the vault. Compared to the greyness everywhere else, the pearly white stung at most other vault dweller's eyes.

Only one person in the vault seemed unaffected by the brightness. That person was someone that Payton only noticed after the door slid shut behind her. Her back was to the other vault dweller as she busied herself with work. Short and somewhat plump, with golden locks of hair tied back in a neat bun. She turned at the sound of the door, and beamed at Payton.

"Oh hello there!" She cooed, a big smile on her rosey round face, "What brings you here, not sickness I hope!"

"Uh, hey Mary." Payton replied, somehow caught off guard by the pharmacist, "I sprained something in my.. leg. Thought I should take some painkillers."

Mary's face turned somewhat stern, although the look wasn't effective, "Really Payton, just a sprain? You're supposed to be young and fit."

"Well Boss said that I should, just to make sure that I don't miss work tomorrow." Payton lied through her teeth. Mary tutted.

"Alright alright, just don't take too many. We lost half a dozen lots of stock last week, anymore and we'll be getting _you-know-who_ knocking on our door."

Payton tried for a reassuring smile, but couldn't manage it. She instead settled for a sympathetic look. Mary took a key from her breast pocket and unlocked a mini fridge. She nodded to Payton before returning to her work.

Payton leant on the top of the fridge as she peered inside. Three shelves held an array of medicines; red syringes, brown glass bottles and blue inhalers. She reached for an inhaler and, after a moment's thought, a syringe. She then excused herself from the room, Mary waved her a polite goodbye.

"Oh and visit your father! He's being gloomy!"

The door slid shut behind Payton, the two drugs in one hand and the three comics in the other.

While she was familiar with these drugs she still felt the need to scan over them; the syringe's barrel was thick, with some kind of stopper that held the plunger up and a guard over the point of the needle. A yellow label had the word "Krit" in bright red text. Underneath it was a smaller text. " _Electrified adrenalin for an extra edge. Warning: Side effects of this drug include sparks emitting from limbs, this is likely harmless. Öberhart Medical will not be responsible for any injury caused by panic over electrified limbs."_

The inhaler was also adorned with a sticker, labelling the drug: Fumes. She squinted at the smaller print. " _The very same drug keeping your soldiers alive on the front, just in a smaller dosage! Inhale orally. For best effects,_ Öberhart Medical recommends storage _in a cool, dry place. Attention: Poor storage condition will not lessen the healing effect of this drug. This inhaler should not be reused._ "

Payton sighed, she hadn't done anything yet but could already feel guilt force its way into her system. She could still turn right around and tell Mary that she changed her mind. But something in her wanted to do this. Whether for the thrill or just to impress the only person her age she'd call a friend, she just didn't know.

With Mary's words ringing in her ears, Payton stuffed the drugs in her pocket and turned to the next door: the office of the chief physician. She hit the panel on her left, the steel doors slid open.

The office was rather spartan: a few surfaces and counters; a grey sink; a medical folding screen in one corner and a grey plastic chair opposite a metal desk in the middle of the room. Seated at that desk was a greying man, dressed in an immaculate white lab coat.

He scribbled on a page, papers scattered either side of him. He looked up from his page and over his square glasses to acknowledge the new person in the room, before going back to work.

"Hello Payton." He said as his steely grey eyes returned to his papers.

Payton kicked at the ground, "Hi dad."

"I trust all is well?" He asked as he signed the bottom of the page and added it to a growing pile beside him. His fingers laced together in front of him as he looked at his daughter, properly this time.

"Yeah."

The doctor started to read over the next page in front of him, "You're back early, that's all."

"Done all the work."

"I see."

The two stood in awkward silence for a few moments before the doctor resumed his work with a sigh. Payton stuffed a hand in her vault suit's pocket and crossed the room. Behind the medical screen was another steel door, hidden behind a curtain. With a flick of the panel, the door opened with a hiss. Payton stepped inside, entering her and her father's living quarters.

She could never understand why her father let her live here. Chief physician was a well respected job, one that gave them a larger and more private home. The only real bother was whenever anyone was hurt they'd come banging on their door, even if it was the middle of the night. Other than that, her father's position allowed her to live in comfort.

That's what made stealing drugs even more regrettable than it was already.

She looked down at the comics in her hand and sighed. The slacker slumped into the room's dark blue couch.

The room itself wasn't quite as bare as the office. Compared to that, the sitting room felt far more lived in. Shelves lined one wall, most of them housed tattered medical journals or other old story books; a few newer, papery folders sat in a pile and a baseball sat atop sofa was plush and worn, and the coffee table had more than a few ring stains. Papers were everywhere, escaped from the trio of filing cabinets and gradually spreading over the floor and the sofa. An old canvas satchel with "Red Soxs" emblazoned on the side lay beneath the table, even that was bursting at the seams with patient forms and other medical paperwork.

It was home. But Payton felt out of place.

Eventually she settled into the first comic, _Saxton Hale's Thrilling Tales,_ and got lost in an adventure of the infamous Australian fighting off on ocean full of Indonesian Berserk Sharks. Although, half the pages were composed of vigorous weapon advertisements for a business 200 years dead.

The next magazine, _Sentry Maintenance and You_ , was less interesting to her. It was all meticulous instructions coupled with long scientific words that confused Payton. There was a glossary in the back, but by that point she had lost all interest.

By the time she'd gotten to the last comic, reading had become a chore. While certain that _Bonk Boy!_ would be mostly composed of pictures, she was just unmotivated to open the first page. Instead she stared at the cover, the centre piece being of Bonk Boy himself, leaping over a squad of blue and grey robots. He posed with one foot just making contact with a robot's head, his other leg tucked beneath him, he was giving the reader a two fingered salute. In the bottom corner of the page was some kind of advertisement that confused Payton.

" _This issue comes with a FREE token, collect 3 and hand them in at your local Bonk! representative to receive a FREE bobblehead! Can YOU collect all 9 mercs?"_

The main reason the advert confused Payton was because the comic has a price tag on it ($3,75). If that cost money then how would the token be free? To get 3 'free' tokens to get one 'free' bobblehead would cost the reader $11,25. The food tokens in the vault were free, they just got handed out after work shifts.

She stared at the cover a moment longer, before slumping further down the couch, letting the comic fall on her chest.

The past must have been a strange world, judging by every pre war comic she'd read it'd been nothing like life in the vault. What with no ceilings and walls that spread out. Green grass on the ground and animals all over. Payton remembered studying animals from a textbook that was, like most things in the vault, older than she was (older than her dad too). While school was meaningless to her, she distinctly remembered birds fascinating her. Not only because of their perfect feathers and beady eyes, but by their flight. Soaring away from the ground, the ceilings, the walls and all other life. Payton adored the idea.

But then again. Her father had told her that a vault was no place for a bird. The walls were too close together and the air was too stale; there was no seed to eat and no fresh water around, nothing like the birdbaths in the textbooks. The slacker found herself longing to be flicking through the birdwatcher's guide that Donny had stolen when they were both children. They didn't have it anymore, whoever it belonged to had _insisted_ that it had been in their family for generations. That their great great great grandfather had brought it down into the vault to reminisce over what he'd never see again, or something as sappy as that.

She wondered what else the first people of the vault would never see again, her eyes scanned the comic's cover once again. Robots? Bobbleheads? New issues of Bonk! Boy? With that, her mind drifted back to Donny.

With an all suffering sigh, she lifted her heavy left arm, weighed down by the bulky pip-boy she wore. A quick glance at the glowing green clock told her that she'd wasted enough trio of comics were tossed on the stained coffee table as the slacker dragged herself to her feet.

The halls of the residential area were close by and empty at this time, but Donny's dorm was furthest away from the clinic. Just as she'd begun to wonder about his advice, she almost crashed straight into the back of the person she was looking for.

Donny whipped his head around, an apology halfway out of his mouth and both hands fishing around in a battered old satchel on his hip. He blinked when he realised who had walked into him and gave Payton a lopsided, but strangely nervous grin.

"Oh! Just the person I was looking for." He pulled his hands out of the bag and turned to face the other slacker.

"And you were looking for me in there?" Payton teased, gesturing to the satchel.

"Oh this? No, no, it's ah." Donny seemed to crane his neck to look over Payton's head. Payton frowned and looked over her shoulder, but saw nothing out of place.

"You're not out of it already are you?" She asked, some genuine worry creeping into her voice.

It almost took Donny a moment to register what she'd just said, his eyes trailed back to her face. Then he laughed, Payton assume he'd just been acting up as a joke. "You get a choice, red or blue?"

His grin got just a bit wider, "Red." He said, knowing exactly what Payton meant. Payton produced the red syrine, Donny snatched it out of her hand in a second.

"So, I guess you want that advice, huh?"

Payton had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes, "Sure."

Without warning, Donny yanked Payton aside, their shoulders hit the grey wall. He looked around again for anybody else. Payton frowned suspiciously. _How could this advice possibly warrant such a delivery?_ She thought.

He took a deep breath.

His voice was low, barely above a whisper. "Listen uh, there's this thing going on. I don't know who started it but.. We're getting out."

The last part of his sentence echoed in Payton's mind. _Out. We're getting out_. Her brow furrowed again. A simple "Why?" Was all she could manage.

Donny stared at her as though she'd grown a second head, but Payton couldn't understand why. After all, vault life was near perfect.

"Why would you want to stay? This isn't really living is it?" Donny replied with a new passion, a confident fire in his eyes. A hope. "Listen, we get out there and… and we'll do something interesting for once in our lives. Who wants to live in a steel coffin all their lives? No one, that's who."

Payton felt as though she'd just listened to a hushed rally speech, not a friendly piece of advice. She stared at him in bewilderment. "Is.. is there anything up there? I thought it was uninhabitable."

That's when Donny grinned, "Someone found something, from outside the vault." His voice was so quiet it forced Payton to lip read half of what he said. A part of her hoped she'd read wrong.

"What is it?"

For the fourth time, Donny checked for listeners. His green eyes met with Payton's brown ones. "A radio signal."

"No way." She breathed in disbelief. She shook her head at Donny's frantic nods. "Donny we're meant to report that sort of thing."

"Why should we? Why should we listen to the Overseer? She's just keeping us from the outside, if somebody from the outside can use radios that means we can live out there."

"Are you crazy?!" Payton just managed to keep her voice down, "You remember what they say about people from the surface, how they're all.. all trying to get us! How they'll stop at nothing!"

"And who is telling us that, huh? The Overseer and her goons, that's who. That's the only word we have about 'em." He shrugged, "Could be all sunshine and rainbows up there for all we know."

"But.. " Payton shook her head. Donny gave a defeated sigh.

"Look, I can tell you don't like this, but it's happening soon. Sooner than we think too. Just come to the vault door, that's where it's meant to happen."

"Today?"

"No like, " He glanced down at his Pip-boy, "Now." Payton gawked at him, "You, uh, coming?"

"Just like that, you're just going?"

Donny paused, "Yeah." He said, he gestured to the satchel on his hip. "Like I said, you coming?"

Payton blinked, "But my dad, I can't just..."

"Go see your dad then, I don't know how long they'll wait." He stuffed the Krit into his satchel and turned to Payton, "I'll.. see you, maybe."

Donny hurried away in the direction of the vault door to the surface. Once he was out of sight, Payton exhaled a shaky breath. Never, in all nineteen years of her life, had she thought she'd hear something like that. Especially as she'd been expecting some useless advice from the local druggie of the vault.

She thought to herself. She had three options. " _One, go to the vault door. Two, forget everything Donny had just said… Or three, turn him and everybody else involved into the overseer."_

She shuddered to imagine what the Overseer would do to that group. Everyone in the vault knew full well that people couldn't just go missing. Payton of all people, knew that healthy dwellers didn't just drop dead in their records. Vault Loyalty Inspectors was a term thrown around since before she could remember. The supposed double agents within the vault walls, relaying all information back to the Overseer herself.

The VLI was who Mary feared would ask about the missing drugs. The VLI were the ones Donny had expected to be listening in. The VLI had been the group who had pasted posters on every wall of the vault, all those years ago. The VLI were the people everyone feared, but no one knew who was part of it and who was not.

Payton suspected that there was even a member of the VLI within the group who planned to escape. Ready and waiting to turn everyone in. No, turning the group in herself would be unacceptable, the slacker refused to stoop to that level. But she had to wonder if Donny had thought that far ahead yet.

Maybe there was a reason why he had been attracted to that birdwatching book all those years ago. He'd always suspected that the VLI had killed his parents, where everybody else feared them, he'd only hated them. But Payton knew that there was reason to fear.

Just as she was about to try to catch up to Donny, a shrill noise filled her ears. One that made the slacker's heart jump in her chest and her teeth itch. She stared, wide eyed at the offending object, a speaker high on the wall. When the noise sounded again it was duller, a drone that whirred, quiet loud quiet. Over and over. A siren. Even though she'd never heard the noise before, Payton knew what had happened.

"The door." She breathed, before running down the way she'd came, the path Donny had taken.

An automated voice came over the speakers as she ran, barely audible over the sirens and the clatter of her own feet. " _The situation is under control, please return to your rooms, any resident found outside of their quarters will be dealt with, severely. The situation is under control.."_

The words stirred something in her. Without thinking, Payton was running towards the clinic, sprinting up the stairs two steps at a time. _I'm following the instructions_ , she thought, _I'm following the instructions_. She stopped dead at the top of the stairs. Voices fought over the din.

"So, what is your explanation?" Demanded a feminine voice.

"They were stealing from us." Came the voice of her father, sounding calm despite the situation.

Payton crept along the hall, past the ward and to the windowless office.

"It's your pharmacist's fault then? Are you blaming her?" Said a third voice, male.

"No! No, Mary has nothing to do with this, neither do I for that matter." Her father retorted.

"It has everything to do with you two, your job is to keep that medicine safe. We don't have an infinite supply." Said the first voice.

"Our job's to dispense medicine, to help people." The strained voice of Mary spoke up, cracked as though she'd been crying.

"We do what we can to keep all the drugs locked away, you can't expect us to be looming over it at night. _You're_ the guards." Payton's father snapped. "And on that note, shouldn't you be attending to all that." The slacker guessed that he had gestured to one of the speakers, still blaring out threats.

"Our job is to get an answer out of you."

"Well you've got it, you can go do your real job now. To protect the people, remember?" Payton winced as her father scoffed, "Though you don't really do that, do you? I sign death certificates you know, you can't hide_"

He was cut off by a gunshot.

Payton lept away from the door like it was electrified. Her heart jumped to her mouth as Mary cried out. The alarms fell on deaf ears.

She backed away from the steel door and slipped into the ward, she ignored the frightened questions of the lonely patient and stepped back into a corner as she attempted to collect herself. She watched two vault suit clad people hurry past the window and back into the vault proper.

Without even checking to see that they had gone, Payton left the ward and swept into her father's office. The steel door had been left open. The first thing she saw was the red splatter on the wall behind her father's desk. Bile rose in her throat.

"Don't look, Payton!" Mary was knelt on the ground, her face red and scrunched up. Tears flowed down her cheeks.

The slacker balled her fists and swallowed thickly. She stormed past the chemist and into her living quarters. From under the coffee table she fished the canvas satchel, she shook the thing out so that white paper spilled and fluttered down onto the floor. She threw the strap over her shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Mary called through her sobs. Payton ignored her. She tossed the comic books into her bag, the inhaler of fumes joined them. When the slacker realised that she owned no meaningful personal possessions, she turned and left the room, keeping her eyes straight ahead.

"Payton!" Mary yelled as the slacker took off down the hall.

She flew down the stairs and round the corners, but disregarded the fights breaking out around her. Through the atrium and up three flights of stairs, she reached the upper maintenance level. The place was dead quiet. When she reached the vault door itself, Payton finally stopped.

The gaping mouth of the vault yawned into darkness.

A gentle breeze blew over her, but Payton's face scrunched up in disgust. A stale, musty smell attacked her nostrils, so suddenly and so intrusively it made the slacker's eyes water. It was bitter, burning and gone as fast as she had noticed it. But it left her weak to her surroundings, as well as awake to what had just happened.

With her last connection to the vault severed, Payton marched towards the open vault door. She had to find Donny, the only person left, the only person who could understand. He was out there somewhere, and as she hoped, not too far ahead.

Without another thought, the vault dweller took a defiant step outside the vault for the first time in her life. Cool air greeted her face as she marched out into darkness.

It wasn't long before her pipboy's green lamp guided her way to the surface.


	3. Sorry

Hey readers

I see that some people are still following / favouriting this story

I'm sorry to say that this version of Fallout X Team Fortress 2 crossover has been scrapped. Don't worry though, it's been completely reworked and rewritten. In the new story, Miss Pauling is our protagonist. Please go and check it out, it's on my profile and it's called **Fallout Miss Pauling**

Thank you

(sorry i read the rules and don't know where else to put this information)


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